O Salwa: sister of my soul, companion of my childhood, friend of my youth — is it true that your call now finds no answer, and that I shall hear nothing but the return of its echo?

Only yesterday — moments ago, which in the life of time are nothing — you filled my eyes and my heart and my thoughts; and now I search for you with my wandering,

anguished spirit, and hear nothing but the bitter, painful silence.

My eyes wept, the wounds of my heart bled, and my soul withdrew into itself, racked by a heavy desolation and wrapped in the dark mist of everlasting parting.

You were a light that shone in a dark air of the blindness of ignorance and rigidity and the cruelty of traditions — traditions left behind

by generations bowed under the weight of their afflictions and their bondage. Your light gleamed and your intelligence sparkled, and you lit strong paths by whose guidance your generation finds its way. You were ambitious, you were brave, and you were generous, giving freely of the good things you had. So you went steadily forward, turning the lights upon young minds, hoping

that your countrymen would move toward a good and tranquil life.

You threw yourself, with all the ardor in you, into seeking the good of the Arab homeland, joining the free in the call to deliver its children from the misery of humiliation and submission, and to raise them to lofty heights of exaltation.

You were, Salwa, one of the daughters of the vanguard who bore the hardship of tearing down and tasted the delight of building. How your soul pulsed with vitality and activity! How your great heart made room for burdens and then overflowed with tenderness and love, so that all the dear ones and friends around you were gladdened by that tenderness and that love.

You were like a flower smiling in the dew of the laughing dawn — always you laughed, and your presence was cheerful and winning. Merriment was one of your natural traits, showing from your childhood, so that you were the delight

You were still young when

...and his little one.

Your merriment never left you, your

Widad Mahmasani al-Dabbagh

Salwa with her husband Mr. Aziz Moumina in their happy home

The Mahmasani and Moumina families extend their deepest thanks to all who kindly consoled them on the loss of their precious solace, Salwa Rajab Mahmasani, whether by their presence, by telegram, or by telephone; and they pray to God that He never again gather them in mourning for one dear to them.